ami_,' I said, 'you cannot tell what useyou may have for it; whereas our townsmen know me, and that I am not oneto take up an unwarrantable position.' We then accompanied him to theneighbourhood of the Porte St. Lambert. It was at that time invisible;we could but judge approximately. My men were unwilling to approach toonear, neither did I myself think it necessary. We parted, after givingthe two envoys an honourable escort, leaving a clear space between usand the darkness. To see them disappear gave us all a startlingsensation. Up to the last moment I had doubted whether they would obtainadmittance. When they disappeared from our eyes, there came upon all ofus an impulse of alarm. I myself was so far moved by it, that I calledout after them in a sudden panic. For if any catastrophe had happened,how could I ever have forgiven myself, especially as Madame Dupin de laClairiere, a person entirely _comme il faut_, and of the mostdistinguished character, went after her husband, with a touchingdevotion, following him to the very edge of the darkness? I do notthink, so deeply possessed was he by his mission, that he saw her. Dupinis very determined in his way; but he is imaginative and thoughtful, andit is very possible that, as he required all his powers to brace him forthis enterprise, he made it a principle neither to look to the righthand nor the left. When we paused, and following after our tworepresentatives, Madame Dupin stepped forth, a thrill ran through usall. Some would have called to her, for I heard many brokenexclamations; but most of us were too much startled to speak. We thoughtnothing less than that she was about to risk herself by going after theminto the city. If that was her intention--and nothing is more probable;for women are very daring, though they are timid--she was stopped, it ismost likely, by that curious inability to move a step farther which wehave all experienced. We saw her pause, clasp her hands in despair (orit might be in token of farewell to her husband), then, instead ofreturning, seat herself on the road on the edge of the darkness. It wasa relief to all who were looking on to see her there.
In the reaction after that excitement I found myself in face of a greatdifficulty--what to do with my men, to keep them from demoralisation.They were greatly excited; and yet there was nothing to be done forthem, for myself, for any of us, but to wait. To organise the patrolagain, under the circumstances, would have been impossible. Dupin,perhaps, might have tried it with that _bourgeois_ determination whichso often carries its point in spite of all higher intelligence; but tome, who have not this commonplace way of looking at things, it wasimpossible. The worthy soul did not think in what a difficulty he leftus. That intolerable, good-for-nothing Jacques Richard (whom Dupinprotects unwisely, I cannot tell why), and who was alreadyhalf-seas-over, had drawn several of his comrades with him towards the_cabaret_, which was always a danger to us. 'We will drink success to M.le Maire,' he said, '_mes bons amis_! That can do no one any harm; andas we have spoken up, as we have empowered him to offer handsome termsto _Messieurs les Morts_----'
It was intolerable. Precisely at the moment when our fortune hung in thebalance, and when, perhaps, an indiscreet word--'Arrest that fellow,' Isaid. 'Riou, you are an official; you understand your duty. Arrest himon the spot, and confine him in the tent out of the way of mischief. Twoof you mount guard over him. And let a party be told off, of which youwill take the command, Louis Bertin, to go at once to La Clairiere andbeg the Reverend Mothers of the hospital to favour us with theirpresence. It will be well to have those excellent ladies in our frontwhatever happens; and you may communicate to them the unanimous decisionabout their chapel. You, Robert Lemaire, with an escort, will proceed tothe _campagne_ of M. Barbou, and put him in possession of thecircumstances. Those of you who have a natural wish to seek a littlerepose will consider yourselves as discharged from duty and permitted todo so. Your Maire having confided to me his authority--not without yourconsent--(this I avow I added with some difficulty, for who cared fortheir assent? but a Republican Government offers a premium to everyinsincerity), I wait with confidence to see these dispositions carriedout.'
This, I am happy to say, produced the best effect. They obeyed mewithout hesitation; and, fortunately for me, slumber seized upon themajority. Had it not been for this, I can scarcely tell how I shouldhave got out of it. I felt drowsy myself, having been with the patrolthe greater part of the night; but to yield to such weakness was, in myposition, of course impossible.
This, then, was our attitude during the last hours of suspense, whichwere perhaps the most trying of all. In the distance might be seen thelittle bands marching towards La Clairiere, on one side, and M. Barbou'scountry-house ('La Corbeille des Raisins') on the other. It goes withoutsaying that I did not want M. Barbou, but it was the first errand Icould think of. Towards the city, just where the darkness began thatenveloped it, sat Madame Dupin. That _sainte femme_ was praying for herhusband, who could doubt? And under the trees, wherever they could finda favourable spot, my men lay down on the grass, and most of them fellasleep. My eyes were heavy enough, but responsibility drives away rest.I had but one nap of five minutes' duration, leaning against a tree,when it occurred to me that Jacques Richard, whom I sent under escorthalf-drunk to the tent, was not the most admirable companion for thatpoor visionary Lecamus, who had been accommodated there. I rousedmyself, therefore, though unwillingly, to see whether these two, sodiscordant, could agree.
I met Lecamus at the tent-door. He was coming out, very feeble andtottering, with that dazed look which (according to me) has always beencharacteristic of him. He had a bundle of papers in his hand. He hadbeen setting in order his report of what had happened to him, to besubmitted to the Maire. 'Monsieur,' he said, with some irritation(which I forgave him), 'you have always been unfavourable to me. I oweit to you that this unhappy drunkard has been sent to disturb me in myfeebleness and the discharge of a public duty.'
'My good Monsieur Lecamus,' said I, 'you do my recollection too muchhonour. The fact is, I had forgotten all about you and your public duty.Accept my excuses. Though indeed your supposition that I should havetaken the trouble to annoy you, and your description of thatgood-for-nothing as an unhappy drunkard, are signs of intolerance whichI should not have expected in a man so favoured.'
This speech, though too long, pleased me, for a man of this species, arevolutionary (are not all visionaries revolutionaries?) is always, whenoccasion offers, to be put down. He disarmed me, however, by hishumility. He gave a look round. 'Where can I go?' he said, and there waspathos in his voice. At length he perceived Madame Dupin sitting almostmotionless on the road. 'Ah!' he said, 'there is my place.' The man, Icould not but perceive, was very weak. His eyes were twice their naturalsize, his face was the colour of ashes; through his whole frame therewas a trembling; the papers shook in his hand. A compunction seized mymind: I regretted to have sent that piece of noise and folly to disturba poor man so suffering and weak. 'Monsieur Lecamus,' I said, 'forgiveme. I acknowledge that it was inconsiderate. Remain here in comfort, andI will find for this unruly fellow another place of confinement.'
'Nay,' he said, 'there is my place,' pointing to where Madame Dupin sat.I felt disposed for a moment to indulge in a pleasantry, to say that Iapproved his taste; but on second thoughts I forebore. He went totteringslowly across the broken ground, hardly able to drag himself along. 'Hashe had any refreshment?' I asked of one of the women who were about.They told me yes, and this restored my composure; for after all I hadnot meant to annoy him, I had forgotten he was there--a trivial fault incircumstances so exciting. I was more easy in my mind, however, Iconfess it, when I saw that he had reached his chosen position safely.The man looked so weak. It seemed to me that he might have died on theroad.
I thought I could almost perceive the gate, with Madame Dupin seatedunder the battlements, her charming figure relieved against the gloom,and that poor Lecamus lying, with his papers fluttering at her feet.This was the last thing I was conscious of.
EXTRACT FROM THE NARRATIVE OF MADAME DUPIN DE LA CLAIRIERE (_nee_ DECHAMPFLEURIE).
I went with my husband to the city gate. I did not wish to distract hismind from what he had
undertaken, therefore I took care he should notsee me; but to follow close, giving the sympathy of your whole heart,must not that be a support? If I am asked whether I was content to lethim go, I cannot answer yes; but had another than Martin been chosen, Icould not have borne it. What I desired, was to go myself. I was notafraid: and if it had proved dangerous, if I had been broken and crushedto pieces between the seen and the unseen, one could not have had amore beautiful fate. It would have made me happy to go. But perhaps itwas better that the messenger should not be a woman; they might havesaid it was delusion, an attack of the nerves. We are not trusted inthese respects, though I find it hard to tell why.
But I went with Martin to the gate. To go as far as was possible, to beas near as possible, that was something. If there had been room
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